Two Lonely Angels
by Tigersonggm
Summary: One is tired of running. The other is tired of others running. One never moves. The other is always moving. But when they meet...
1. Chapter 1

I am lonely. I have always been lonely. So long have I stood here, arm outstretched to the sky, as if waiting for another lonely angel to come and carry me away, to end this loneliness.

But I have been here so long. I used to know. I stopped counting long ago when I realized there was no point. There was no point in anything.

I used to reach out to people; to try and tell them how it felt, to make a friend, to find someone who cared.

They ran. All of them ran. They ran with looks of terror on their faces, fear lending speed to their feet as they fled. How many, I know not. Life has no meaning anymore. I am hardly more than a fragile shell. I could move if I wanted to, but I don't, for I know that everything beyond these hedgerows would run. Would scream. And I'd be lonelier than ever.

I slept. I slept through the dawns and dusks of countless days, weeks, months, years. Alone. Utterly alone. And I cried.

My brethrens' tears are false. They have no emotion but greed and bloodlust. They know not sadness or loneliness. Or fear.

My tears are real.

I used to watch the birds. They came and went, sang, and sometimes, died. I almost felt envy. They had an escape. I did not.

One day, a little red-chested bird landed on my hand. It happens often. I payed it no heed. It left, and returned with another. They brought back feathers, twigs, grass, and bits of fluff, and built a nest.

I didn't care. I barely registered the fact.

Then one day, I sensed something. My kind can sense life. In the nest were two living things. Not birds, though. Eggs. Two of them. Small. Innocent. And the lightest blue.

These unborn creatures had a home. I did not. No matter how long I stay here, this garden was never, and never will be, my home. You live in a home. I simply... Exist.

These unborn creatures had others who cared for them. I had never had that.

One day, the female came back. The male did not. The male never returned. Soon, neither would the female. But the eggs remained. I found that I loved them. The innocent little things.

I heard a sound and cast my gaze to the right. A man passed me. He wore a long, brown coat, red shoes, and had spiky brown hair. And he was smiling. A female followed him. She was wearing her black hair in a spiky bun, and had on a black jacket. She was smiling too. I had never smiled like that.

For a moment I was tempted to try once more to make friends. But I didn't.

Happily, they walked along. "Beautiful, isn't it Martha?" The male said. The female nodded in agreement. "Yes, Doctor. No loud noises, no traffic, and crisp, pure air." She paused. "I really like it here."

The man smiled and turned to her. "And no Martians,"

"And no Martians," She chuckled.

So the man was Doctor, the woman was Martha. The voices faded as they walked onwards through the hedgerows.

For once, I let them go.

I had something to care about. Several minutes later, I heard a fluttering in the shrubs, and the birds within evacuated, chirping in alarm. A few moments later, a red fox with black paws emerged, panting. Like he'd been chasing his meal and lost. He sat and closed his mouth, then panted again. Beady black eyes searching for easier prey fell onto my nest. My eggs.

The fox approached and clawed his way up to my shoulder. That was when he made his mistake.

He blinked.

In the span of a millisecond, I flung out my free arm and backhanded that fox so hard he flew into the hedge and fell into a rosebush. The fox threw his head back and howled at the jagged thorns, then limped away as fast as he could.

Free to move, I cradled the nest in the crook of my arm and sat on the ground slowly so as not to jostle the eggs. I leaned against the hedge and listened to the fox howling pathetically as it left.

But as that sound faded, a new one approached from the opposite direction. Footsteps. Hurried footsteps. I turned to the opening in the hedgerow as the two people came back.

First, the man appeared. Doctor. Then Martha. He looked into my eyes, and I wanted to run away at what I saw.

His eyes. So ancient. Full of wisdom and kindness, sorrow and loss, regret and shame, strength and adventure. But underneath it all lay a thick blanket of loneliness. More than I had ever seen. Lonelier than even me. And they blazed with anger. Doctor knew what I was, and he hated me for it.

The girl looked scared. "It's a weeping angel, right Doctor?"

"Yes. Don't blink. Don't look away. You know what to do."

Martha murmured an 'okay'. Doctor looked as if he was about to say something, but Martha interrupted him. "Doctor, it has... pupils. Are they supposed to have pupils? None of the other ones did, just... blank stone. And what is it holding?"

"It's a nest... And two eggs..."

"It shouldn't be able to do that! Whatever it touches gets sent back in time. Maybe the eggs are dead?"

Without looking away, the man pulled out a silver tube and pointed it at the eggs. A blue light flashed and emitted a pulsing sound. Holding it up to eye level, he looked at it and put it away. "No, the eggs are alive."

"How is it doing that?"

"Stop, Martha."

"What?"

"It's not it. It's she." He paused. "Martha, if it wanted to harm us when we first passed, it could've done it. We wouldn't have had a chance." The anger in his eyes was gone, and he looked apologetic and pitying. "Martha, turn around." She opened her mouth as if to say something, but decided against it and turned around. Then the man blinked.

I curled into a ball, clutching the nest tighter and flaring my wings in a pathetic attempt to make the man go away. I was scared of him. This man who seemed as if he could bring the very universe to its knees. The girl turned around and gasped quietly. She seemed sad for me. They both closed their eyes, and she said, "Don't be afraid. What's your name?"

"I don't... have one..." Came the reply. I froze. I could talk...


	2. Chapter 2

Martha was surprised, to say the least. Of course, this little "relaxing outing" turned out to be more than just that. Almost everything that she and the Doctor knew about Weeping Angels had become invalid in about five seconds. One, this one could touch living things without poofing them away to the past; two, she could bloody _talk_; three, and most prominently, she wasn't evil; and four, she had pupils, which I didn't get, because all the others' eyes were just blank stone. I wasn't sure if she was a whole other species, or what.

And I felt sorry for her. I can't imagine being like that. Only able to move when nobody can see you, having no friends, no one to talk to, to be with, being a creature that very name instills fear when you have no intention of harming anyone, and being utterly, utterly alone.

Nervously, I walked up to her, and grabbed her hand, and closed my eyes. My heart skipped a beat as I felt stone turn to flesh. I wasn't quite sure what to expect. I had imagined that if an Angel could talk, it would be terrifying, a deep, grating voice. But hers sounded sad and quiet.

"I... Didn't know that I could talk." The Angel whispered. Silence.

"Would you like a name?" The Doctor said.

"Y-yes." said the Angel, surprised.

"How about Minuet?"

I felt her hand relax, then unknowingly squeeze it tighter. "I - That's..." She took a shuddering breath. "Thank you."

* * *

The Doctor heard the newly named Minuet take a deep breath. "Thank you." He walked to her and put a hand on the Angel's shoulder. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Was she...

Suddenly, Minuet hugged him. She shook as she cried. For a moment, the Doctor was lost for words.

And that was about as rare as you can get.

Slowly, he hugged her back, feeling the feathers on her wings. "Shh... It's okay. You're not alone anymore."

And the Weeping Angel wept.


End file.
